


A Job

by crowbeakspade



Category: Regular Show
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowbeakspade/pseuds/crowbeakspade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're so desperate for a job that you'll pick almost anything, but now just what exactly have you gotten yourself into? Mostly female oriented, BensonXYou, SkipsXYou, and most likely Mordecai or RigbyXYou later on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Job

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that I only name the "understood 'you'" character for the sake of filler; please, feel free to fill in your own name instead of the character's. This story is meant to be involve the reader and I feel that using blanks instead of an actual name just kills the feel.

A job.

You need a job. You aren't long out of your parents house and your money is running dangerously close to zero. You thought that living in an apartment with two other people would take a load off of your wallet, but nooo, it's no better than living alone. You'd take just about anything right now.

You're taking a short walk around downtown and pass by a few store windows, all begging you to spend the last of your cash somewhere. Suddenly you spot a Help Wanted sign behind the glass with a number to call below it. You're a little hesitant, but you decide that you're just too desperate to worry about it. You whip your cellphone out of your pocket and dial the number on the poster, putting the receiver up to your ear. A voice answers, "Yeah, hello?" Jeez, grouchy, you think.

"Uh, I saw your sign in a window and thought I'd call; what kind of job are you offering?" The voice behind the phone seems to brighten, "Oh, a future employee, I see. The name's Benson. We're looking for extra grounds keepers for the public park, would you be interested?" You smile; not too bad of a job.

"When can I come over for an interview?"

You hear him laugh gently; most likely a handsome gentleman, you think. "Are you that eager? You can head over to the house right now, if that's what you'd like. You know where it is, right?"

"Of course I do, it's the only park in town. I'll be there in a few minutes."

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, breathing a short "Yessss" as you slip it back into your pocket. Finally, a job. Maybe it's not the best, but it'll pay the rent. You run back to the bike rack and unlock yours so you can get there as quick as you can.

You ride up to the house on the hill in the middle of the park. It didn't take too long to get here, you ponder, guess that means an easy commute. You park your bike near the garage and walk up the steps to the door, but before you can even put your hand on the doorhandle, it flies open, nearly hitting you in the face. You watch in horror as two, upright walking, talking animals come running out of the building; one a six-foot tall blue jay and the other a short racoon. They laugh and yell, punching eachother in the arms. You're pretty sure they don't even notice you as they run down the stairs, off to do... whatever.

Good lord, talking animals! What kind of place is this anyway? You try to forget about it and walk in the open door.

And you thought it couldn't get any weirder.

A huge, well-built, shirtless yeti walks, or really skips, right past you, carrying a barbell in his hand. He doesn't even turn to look at you. You step farther inside the entryway and you see stairs going upwards. You assume your destination is up there. Putting a hand on the banister, you look downwards to your left into a living room of sorts and spot a green-skinned, chubby man and a small ghost with a hand on its head watching TV.

You decide to keep walking.

On your way up, you can barely hear the man talking to someone, most likely the ghost, "You know who else likes infomercials? MY MOM!" At the top of the stairs, the hallway leads to a few different rooms, probably bedrooms, and the final one looks sort of like an office. You nod to yourself and walk towards it.

You look at your feet as you walk, not paying attention and you bump into someone ahead of you. You look up and apologize, but the man just looks at you and laughs, "Good show, good show!" As if to continue with the pattern of weirdness, the man fits in with the rest of the strange folk around here. His head is about three times the size of your own, and is perfectly round, almost like a lollipop. He has a gray mustache and wears a stovetop hat, and despite his childlike demeanor, he seems to be actually quite old. He pats you on the back and, still laughing, walks down the hallway to his bedroom.

You watch him go in, just staring for a few seconds before shaking your head and continuing on. Hopefully this Benson guy would be refreshingly normal compared to the rest of this freakshow. You knock on the office door and a shrill "What is it!" greets you.

"I'm here for the interview," you reply, and immediately the sound of the voice changes from harsh to gentle. "Oh, of course, come on in."

You smile, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open, and you rest your eyes on your future boss.

A gumball machine.

A living gumball machine sits in front of you, twiddling his thumbs at a large metal desk covered in papers. Suddenly, he stands and comes towards you. Your eyes are as wide as saucers as the machine extends his hand out to you for you to shake. "I'm Benson," he says with a smile; you slip your hand into his and he grips yours tightly.

"He-hello, Benson," you manage to stutter out.

He lets go, "So I trust you've already met everyone here at the house?"

You cough, "I... I guess you could say that..."

"Great," he grins, gesturing you over to a stool in front of his desk. You sit down on the stool and attempt to make yourself comfortable. He sits back down at his desk and stares you straight in the eye, "So, tell me about yourself."

You think for a moment, then shrug, "W-well, I'm really nothing special; my name's Alex, I'm ninteen, I just started living on my own and I need a simple job that I can use to pay for living expenses... I'm willing to work hard for a paycheck-" At that, he nearly stops you mid-sentance. "You're hired," he says, much to your surprise.

"Wh-what?"

"That's all I needed to know. We're a little short on... work ethic here."

You stand up, elated, "No way, that was too easy!" He stands as well and shakes your hand again, "It'll be a pleasure working for you, Mr. Benson," you say politely.

He laughs shyly, "Please, no need to be formal. Just Benson will do."

"Now, for your first assignment, go help those slackers out there rake the leaves," he points to the window behind him and you can see those two talking animals from earlier out on the grounds, screwing around. "There should be a left over rake or two in the garage; I trust that you can take care of this?"

You nod, "Easy."

He pats you on the back, his touch lingering a little longer than you think it should, but you wave it off as an expression of appreciation. "I'll see you when you're done for your next assignment," he smiles, dismissing you. You open the door and begin to exit the room, but you feel him touch your shoulder from behind, "I hope none of this has freaked you out too much, Alex."

"N-not at all," you mumble, and make your way out.

You walk back down the hallway, whistling to yourself, but stop when you hear a voice call your name. "Hey. Alex."

You turn to face whoever just addressed you and are surpised to see the yeti man from earlier staring you down.

"Oh, hello," you say nervously.

"That is your name, right?"

You nod, "Yes, that's me. How'd you know?"

He... skips... up to you and extends his hand, "Nevermind that. Name's Skips." You shake it hesitantly, "Nice to meet you, Skips."

"Come find me if you need anything," he speaks; you can't help but notice how stoic and handsomely straight-faced he is as he talks to you. He doesn't smile and releases your hand, letting you go back to work. You watch him... skip... off back to a room and you laugh a little; what an interesting guy.

You look down the stairs and into the living room; it appears that the duo on the couch earlier has dissapeared. You walk down the steps and out the entryway door, taking in the outside air. The heat is just perfect for working outdoors, and you feel excited to get your job done. Walking down the stairs, the sounds of sticks clicking and yelling get progressively louder. You walk down the last step and around the corner, finally seeing what trouble you're about to face.

The blue jay and the raccoon from before chase after eachother with rakes in hand, stopping to face one another and sword fight with the handles. You put your palm to your face; oh, for heavens sakes, you didn't sign up to babysit. "Take that!" the raccoon yells, stabbing at his blue feathered friend; the bird clutches his chest and pretends to die, limbs twitching.

"Okay, break it up," you shout, walking over and standing between the two. "Aren't you guys supposed to be working?"

"Who the H are you?" the brown rodent asks spitefully, setting his rake down on the ground.

"I'm the new employee here," you smile proudly.

"New employee?" The blue jay stands and stares you down.

"Yeah, and who are you two?"

They look at eachother and then back to you; the bird points to himself, "I'm Mordecai."

"And I'm Rigby," the raccoon states.

Mordecai sets his rake down as well and confronts you. "We're the only grounds keepers around here, so why don't you go somewhere else?"

You're taken aback by his words. "Why don't YOU go somewhere else, and I do my job?"

Rigby quickly grabs Mordecai's arm and pulls him over to the side, whispering to him. You tap your foot impatiently and scowl as they turn back around to you. "Okay, man, we'll leave you to it." They smirk as they walk away, laughing and hi-fiving each other. You roll your eyes, but then a wave of realization flows over you. They just conned you into doing their job.

You smack your hand to your forehead and sigh, "Crap." You pick up one of the rakes and start pulling the leaves into a pile.


End file.
